


Toothbrush

by EmptyPages



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 23:04:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15278160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmptyPages/pseuds/EmptyPages
Summary: His fingers manage to wrap around a sticky metal pole, but it’s too late already- his knees buckle and give up under him.The next second Bucky finds himself down on one knee in front of spread legs. It's not overly obscene really, but when he looks up and into the face of the most insanely handsome human individual, it suddenly becomes very...inviting. Bucky's brain sort of short circuits.“Well, I wasn't expecting to be on my knees in front of you quite so soon, if I’m being honest.”And really, what was he thinking.





	Toothbrush

**Author's Note:**

> The beginning of this fic is heavily inspired by an entry over at chat from last night (my german pals will know what I'm talking about, right?), I'll link to it if I find it again. Other than that ...I probably listened to DNCE - Toothbrush one too many times and this happened. Oops.

Bucky is on his way home from work, longing for a hot bath to soothe his aching muscles. He’s absentmindedly scrolling through his Facebook feed, blending out the people around him. Because it is after rush hour on a Tuesday in May, the subway station isn't too crowded,for which he’s more than grateful.  
The train pulls into the station, the doors open and a drizzle of stressed New Yorkers exit the wagon. Bucky enters, but is still not really paying attention to his surroundings, the routine of this whole procedure having been manifested into his bones by time.  
And so naturally, when the train accelerates like the driver has a race to win, his right hand is still busy tapping on his phone, while the left one is grasping at thin air. _Shit_ Bucky thinks, thrown off by the unexpected momentum. His fingers manage to wrap around a sticky metal pole, but it’s too late already- his knees buckle and give up under him.

The next second Bucky finds himself down on one knee in front of spread legs. It's not overly obscene really, but when he looks up and into the face of the most insanely handsome human individual, it suddenly becomes very... _inviting_. Bucky's brain sort of short circuits.

“Well, I wasn't expecting to be on my knees in front of you quite so soon, if I’m being honest.”

And really, what was he thinking. 

There are only two ways this could go: Either the guy clocks him one for coming onto him (he does look a lot like a gym rat / chunky stripper / Greek God) or Bucky will be on his knees in a whole other way hopefully soon.

When the blond chunk laughs openly, head thrown back and mischievous spark in his eyes, Bucky thinks there’s a good chance it might be the latter.

***

When Bucky blinks his eyes open he doesn't recognise the bed he’s in, nor is he aware of what day or time it is. His mouth tastes like roadkill. With a tired groan he presses the heel of his left hand into his eyes, trying to get rid of the sleep in them.

And then the momentum shifts and everything falls back into place.

Feral grins and roaming hands. Bodies covered in sweat. Rumpled sheets. 

Turning his head Bucky glances over the most amazing sex he’s had in a long time, sleeping soundly beside him. The sheets are pooling down low over his back and Bucky takes a moment to appreciate the sight with a satisfied grin on his lips.  
To say the man - Steve, his name is, is gorgeous would be an understatement. He’s around 6”2 of all-muscle all-American good looks, blond hair and blue eyes. And not afraid to use any of it to his advantage. It made Bucky’s head spin a little, really. 

Like all good things, though, this too must come to an end. Never being one for sentimental crap, Bucky simply gets up and starts collecting his clothes. Although, truth be told, he’ll probably be thinking about the past night a lot. Steve really knows how to make a guy happy. 

He’s just zipping his pants back up, already turning towards what he suspects is the apartment door, when he hears the rustling of sheets from behind him. His hand freezes on the doorknob. Shit. Talking. Yikes. Hopefully he’s not one of those that regret hooking up with a stranger. (Bucky sure as fuck doesn't.)

“Hey.” A raspy voice cuts through the stale air, followed by the clearing of a throat. 

Bucky warily looks over to Steve, who’s sitting up on the bed now, leaning on his right elbow, so that he’s facing him. Dreadful, having to talk to One Night Stands the morning after. He’d hoped to make a silent escape. 

“Gimme your number so we can repeat this, maybe?” 

Well, it's not like that'd be a hardship, right?

***

Bucky and Steve’s relationship follows a pattern: they fuck, they fall asleep, wake up and say goodbye. It’s an unspoken agreement they've come to, a casual, no-strings-attached kind of deal. They’re not even friends with benefits, because, well, they’re not _friends_. Just two people who enjoy making each other come. It’s easy and relaxing and they both enjoy that. Although.

°°°

On an odd Sunday morning Bucky is occupying the usually empty side of Steve’s bed again. Who just now turns to lie on his side so that he’s facing the still sleeping brunet. He’s beautiful to every standard and if the circumstances of their initial meeting had been different, if he’d seen Bucky in a bar or on the street, he’s pretty sure he would’ve asked Bucky out. But the invitation that night had been clear as the night sky and Steve would have been a fool to decline. He’s fine with the arrangement they have right now.

He is.

It’s just that in moments like these, when Bucky is still dead to the world, Steve can’t help but stare. Bucky’s hair had been up in a simple bun at the nape of his neck last night, though now it’s… fucked. Steve bites his lip when a flood of memories comes crashing down on him. His hands in Bucky’s hair, tugging and petting while his eyes can’t get enough of Bucky’s steel grey eyes. His tongue worshipping every inch of his chiseled body. He’s a few inches smaller in height than Steve and his body is leaner, skin pulled tight over wiry muscles. He’s gorgeous.

By now Steve knows the telltale signs of Bucky waking up. (He’s not entirely sure that that’s not creepy.) Bucky’s hand twitches, he sucks in a deep breath and blinks a couple of times, before he manages to pry his eyes open. 

“Good morning, babe.” 

“Hmpf.” Bucky grumbles. It’s one of the few things he actually knows about Bucky: he’ll get up early to make a quick escape, but he’s decidedly not a morning person.  
As if on cue, although he’s not fully awake yet, Bucky moves to get up. 

Steve’s hand lands on his forearm. “Stay for breakfast?” 

_What. The. Hell?!_ Steve chastised himself, groaning inwardly. Where hell had that come from?! That's not something they do, breakfast. Bucky stares at him sleepily, as if not comprehending. But because apparently Steve loves ruining good things for himself, he adds: “There’s coffee.” 

With a groan Bucky falls back onto the pillow, staring up at Steve with what he secretly calls his kicked puppy look. It works wonders. “I make it a habit not to have breakfast with people whose last name I don't know.” 

Steve smiles. “Rogers, Steven.” 

“James Barnes.” He introduces himself with a nod of his head. “Nice to meet you, Steve Rogers. I guess you may feed me now. Lots of coffee. All the coffee.” 

They look at each other for a moment, bursting into laughter when the absurdity of the situation hits them.

 

“Wait, so you said your name is James, but you go by Bucky?” Not exactly what Steve had expected. James- somehow he can’t quite see a James in Bucky, who already waves his hand in an aborting manner. 

“ ‘S from my middle name, Buchanan. Do I get coffee now?” 

Heaving a world weary sigh, Steve gets out of bed and in the spur of the moment turns back and smacks a kiss onto Bucky’s forehead. (Because again, why not ruin the good things he’s got going for him?) “In this house we consume breakfast sitting at a table, like civilized people.”

***

Bucky and Steve's relationship follows a pattern: they fuck, they fall asleep, wake up, have breakfast, during which they actually talk to each other. Steve’s not sure that's a good thing because the more he learns about Bucky, the more he actively likes him as a person. He’s easy-going, adorably grumpy when sleep and/or coffee deprived and snarky as hell. He’s also funny and kind and-

***

07:37 pm: _my shithead friend cancelled on me. Wanna watch a movie and eat the pizza that i already ordered?_

07:38 pm: **is it cheese**

07:40 pm: _it’s pepperoni :\_

07:41 pm: **hmm acceptable**

07:41 pm: **be there in 20**

***

Steve is truly and utterly _fucked_. He realizes this when he wakes up the next morning, the sun already shining way too bright in his face. That’s not the reason, though. No, he wakes up to the smell of pancakes and coffee and the sounds of a Cash song wafting through the apartment. Following the scent on silent feet, he stops in the kitchen door to see Bucky plating pancakes and humming along quietly to the music. Undoubtedly doing his best to keep silent as not to wake Steve. Honestly, he looks kind of stupid with his long hair in a messy half-bun, wearing only boxers and Steve’s too-big shirt from last night. And yet Steve’s feet move on their own accord, carrying him over to the other man, who yelps in surprise when Steve rests his hands on his hips.

“Steve, what-?” Bucky laughs, turning around to Steve pressing his lips to his. Bucky oopmphs in surprise, only to melt into the kiss a second later. Steve hoists him up onto the counter as Bucky’s hands tangle in the short strands on his neck, their breakfast momentarily forgotten.

°°°

Bucky’s mind is racing. He can’t shake the feeling that the last 24 hours completely uprooted the very foundations of his relationship with Steve. They didn't do dinner and a movie. Bucky didn't make breakfast. They didn't have _morning sex_. And yet they did all those things. In one day. So what does this mean? One last hurray before Steve tells him _sorry, but I think I’ve met someone more important than you_. The thought turns his insides to lead. Fuck, this wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to _like_ Steve. Urgh. Chewing his lips, Bucky slowly moves the blond’s arm off his stomach and gets up quietly, picking up his pants and a shirt (Steve’s) from the floor. He pulls the clothes on silently, stealing quick glimpses of the other man still sleeping soundly.  
He doesn't want to face him, doesn't want this to end. But naturally, just as he reaches for the doorknob, Steve voice travels through the air.

“There's a spare toothbrush under the sink, that you’re welcome to use. I’ll re-heat breakfast, I’m starving.”

Bucky only stares at him. “What.” 

Steve’s forehead crinkles in confusion. “I forgot to tell you, 'cause you're always gone so soon after breakfast. But turns out, you're not immune to morning breath, babe. So, toothbrush. Use it. And then come back to bed, I’ll have breakfast re-heated by then. That okay?” 

“More than.” Bucky confesses with a tiny smile on his lips. “I’ll be right back. Thanks.”

***

Bucky takes his time in the bathroom. He brushes his teeth, combs his fingers through his hair and splashes cold water on his face. The apartment smells like pancakes and syrup on his way back to the bedroom, where he hesitates in the doorframe. Steve looks at him expectantly, balancing a tray with both their pancakes, coffee and orange juice on his legs.

“Would you mind closing the bedroom door?” Steve asks, making a come-hither gesture at Bucky. He sheds his pants (because pants are a no-no in bed) and crawls under the covers with Steve, feeling as unsure as never before. Steve sighs heavily, lifting his arm to invite Bucky to crawl underneath it, so he can rest his head on Steve’s chest. Which Bucky does, because a) Steve smells ( ~~of sex and sweat and quitne frankly disgusting~~ ) good and b) whatever. It doesn't look like Steve minds, so, no harm done, right?

***

Bucky and Steve’s relationship follows a pattern: they fuck (hard and fast and angry), fall asleep, wake up and have sex again (lazy and slow and blissful), have breakfast and then…they lounge around and cook lunch together. Or, more accurately, Steve drives Bucky to work, depending on the day. At work, his colleagues get curious about the blond guy in the van, who drives Bucky to work more and more frequently. But Bucky shoves them away, a high blush rising to his cheeks. “Fuck off, Dum Dum, he’s just a friend.”

So yeah, that's what they are now. Friends. _With benefits_. 

“I’m friends with Monty, but you don't see us coming into work together, sporting a giant fucking hickey on my neck.” Dum Dum raised an amused eyebrow at Bucky, whose cheeks turned even redder.

“Whatever.” He grumbled lamely and got to work.

***

08:22 am: **thanks 4 that huge ass hickey btw my friends think we're dating and I'm hiding u from them now**

08:30 am: _aren't you, though?_

08:31 am: **dating u? idk am i??**

08:33 am: _uhm_

08:33 am: _i think i’ve shoveled my own grave here? Help? I’ve meant the hiding part of course, but in retrospect i don't know where i was going with that, because i’m not sure i want to meet them now that they know i gave you that hickey_

08:38 am: _which looks gorgeous on you, by the way_

08:43 am: _i like what we have. But i also really like you, so if you’re game I'd love to take you on a proper date, buck._

08:44 am: _we should talk maybe_

08:46 am: **take me 2 dinner 2nite. Nothing fancy. 7pm sharp. sex tonight, talk 2morro!**

***

Bucky and Steve's relationship follows a pattern: they go on dates. They meet each other's friends. They still fuck and have breakfast. Bucky’s lonely toothbrush gets the company of a drawer full of Bucky’s clothes at Steve's apartment.

Six months later, it becomes _their_ apartment officially.

**Author's Note:**

> Some extras: 
> 
>  
> 
> ° Steve starts calling Bucky 'babe' pretty early on. At first it's meant ironically, then... not so much
> 
> ° Bucky lives in a shared flat with Natasha. It's why the first time he's seeing Bucky's place is when they're already together
> 
> ° Sam is the shithead friend who cancelled last minute and got things rolling. Kudos to the best wingman Steve can ask for
> 
> ° Bucky prefers mushroom pizza
> 
> ° Two years after he moves in, Bucky's on his knees in front of Steve for the third option, yay! 
> 
> That's it! If you're wondering- yes, I am currently still writing on a couple long-ass fics but I'm slower than George RR Martin, what can I say.


End file.
